Letters From Psyche
by royalfortressmeadow
Summary: Before Tinkerbell and the Lion Tattoo... there was a small bird who brought them together. Young Queen Regina sends out a letter via carrier pigeon to find a confidant outside palace walls. Psyche, her carrier pigeon, delivers the letter to an outlaw named Robin, who is intrigued by what the letter says. Rated M for sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**REGINA**

I named her Psyche because I wanted my soul to be free, like the bird she was. Psyche was a well-trained carrier pigeon, a gift from Leopold, on our wedding day. This was probably the only thing the kind king has given me that I genuinely cared for.

Leopold. Where do I even begin? He is a good king. A generous ruler. An exceptional father. But his heart never left Queen Eva, and for that my life has been a curse. My life, an eternal prison. My mother had already killed the only man who brought me happiness. My mentor Rumplestiltskin had already proven to me that death was as final as it sounded. Daniel was never coming back. Despite my attempts to bring him here, back to our world of the living, back to me, I came out of that endeavor fruitless. And what does my very kind and generous husband do? He takes away the one last thing I held dear.

_My freedom._

For King Leopold hadn't observed my love for the outdoors. For King Leopold expressed his wishes for me to essentially become a stay-at-home mother looking after his insipid daughter. Me? A housewife? Oh, for heaven's sake, _no._

How glorious would it be to be able to feel the wind whipping through my hair again as I ride a horse, galloping across the green meadows outside? How wonderful would it be to be able to smell the fresh clean air and feel the warmth of the sun prickling my skin? Will I ever get the chance to feel that again? Will my life remain a prison until I breathe my last? Only time will tell.

I step into my room, exhausted from the morning's festivities. Snow was having a slumber party with the other young princesses across the land, and I was busy prepping her up in a dress as her nanny Johanna cleans up her messy room. Insolent child. Dressing up Snow should not have been that hard, but the brat was a fickle one.

"Oh, this cannot be," she said on that first dress, "This is too white."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I say through clenched teeth, "But you look great in it, dear."

She shakes her head. "My mother told me I must never wear anything so white, as my skin is pale and it would make me look like I am a ghost."

_Why would she get you a white dress then? _I wanted to say, but I curb my tongue. Instead, I rummage through her closet and pick a pink one to show her. "What about this?"

She nods her head. "Let's try it on."

I help her into it and when we finish, she shakes her head once more. "No. It's too girly."

At this point, my blood had already risen tenfold. "I thought you said you liked this dress." I distinctly remember her wearing it during one of her friend's birthdays.

Snow sighs. "My mother told me I must never wear anything so girly, as others should also see my versatility and strength through my dress."

"So which one would you like?" I snap, but she did not seem to notice my sour mood. I watch as she ponders this for a moment. "Blue," she says, "I'd like to wear blue."

We went through three more dresses after that. Apparently sky blue and aqua blue were too "baby-like" for her tastes, now that she has grown.

I was thankful the morning finally came and went. I sit by the edge of my bed as I look out at the world outside, through glass windows, of course. I sigh. The queen of nothing, that is what I am. What good is it to be the ruler of a kingdom if I cannot do as I please? By the window, Psyche is perched on her cage, occasionally pecking at the food I placed there earlier today. I marvel at her body, so white and pure. She looks at me and tilts her head, as if to ask what was wrong.

I laugh. "You want to go outside too, don't you?" I ask. I approach my pet and open up her cage. "Yeah, me too." Psyche flies to my hand, purring as her claws touch my skin. "The difference between you and me, your master actually lets you out once in a while."

I open my balcony door and step out, then bring my arm up toward the sun. Psyche flaps her wings and leaves me. I watch her as she flies away, marvelling at her wings as she hovers out the afternoon sky.

"Bring me something good this time!" I call out.

She always brought back something for me, usually a twig or a flower. This time however, she surprises me.

Today, Psyche brings home a white-feathered fletching.

I take the item from Psyche to examine it closely. It had come off from the end of an arrow, a fast moving one. I furrow my eyebrows. The ends of the feathers have been purposely yanked out. Why would an archer take out his arrow's fin? I was not schooled in the sport of archery, but I was smart enough to understand the importance of the fletching in aerodynamic equipment. Without it, an arrow's movements would be unstable and unpredictable. I shake my head. The owner of this fletching was probably a novice archer, a complete idiot. Still, I keep it inside my bedside drawer.

"Thank you, Psyche," I say, and I return her to her cage before I lay in bed to relax.

* * *

Notes:

_Psyche._ Greek origin. "Soul", or "Breath of Life"._  
_

_Fletching. _Collective fins at the end of an arrow or dart, usually made of feathers. Used for arrow stability.


	2. Chapter 2

**ROBIN**

"Right. Toss them up, Little John."

My lieutenant launches the red apples in the air, and I quickly grab the arrows I kept behind me and position them. The arrows zip past my peripheral as I release them from my bow. We all watch as the five arrows pierce through the middle of each fruit and land in a straight line at the tree trunk a little further in front of me.

I look at Arthur-a-Bland with a smug expression on my face. "Are you certain you can outmatch me?" I egg.

Arthur scoffs, readies his own bow and arrow. "Do it, Little John."

Green apples are launched this time, and Arthur releases his weapons. Five green apples are impaled similarly as my red ones, at another tree trunk.

Arthur turns to me with a triumphant grin. "Any weasel can pull that trick off," he tells me. "Of course, all but Li'l Johnny ol' boy."

My eyes glance at the biggest member of my Merry Men, and I catch a glimpse of his glare.

"Watch it Bland," he threatens, but all of us laugh at him.

I become serious again and tie my green scarf above my eyes. "Toss them whenever you'd like," I say. I listen intently for the catapult's spring, and when I hear it, I grab an arrow and launch it to the direction of the sound. I hear my Merry Mens' cheers and gasps. I take off the scarf from my eyes. The red apple had been shot perfectly in the middle of the tree's trunk. I turn to Arthur with an arrogant look.

He rolls his eyes. Then he turns his back on his target and asks Little John to toss a fruit. He aims his arrow backwards, and to everyone's surprise the green apple is successfully impaled. He turns to me.

"Face it, Hood. Not only am I better than you as a swordsman, but I am also better than you as an archer."

My eyebrows raise. I had to admit, Arthur was indeed one of my more adept men, but to challenge me in archery was quite the bold move. "Why don't we raise the stakes then?" I wager, my tone confident. I point at the trees in front of us. "Loser cleans up all those nasty apples hanging there. The archer who has the least apples on the ground shall be declared winner."

The other Merry Men jeer, their low voices echoing throughout the forest. Arthur's face lights up with glee. "You're on." he brings out his hand, and I shake it with a firm grip.

I take out all my arrows but one, and tug hard on each of their tails. The fletchings snap and my Merry Men gasp.

"Robin," Friar Tuck calls, "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

I keep my eyes on Arthur's as I jeer, "Why, levelling the playing field, of course." The Merry Men burst out in pompous laughter as I throw the fletchings to the ground.

Arthur grumbles. "I may be arrogant, but I am no fool," he announces, positioning his arrows. "You just dug your own grave, Robin."

A grin forms across my face, and I ready a damaged arrow against my bow. We both await for Little John's mark. "On my count," he instructs, "Three, two, one, go!"

The apples launch, one green one red. Arthur shoots his arrow. I ignore my own red apple and shoot toward the green one instead. My arrow wiggles sporadically but still manages to collide with Arthur's, and both apples fall to the ground. Arthur's jaw drops.

"What the- you cannot do such a thing!" he shouts, "Where is your honor?"

I chuckle, but I don't glance his way. "We made no rule against such a move," I respond off-handedly, "Watch out, Arthur. The next apples are coming up."

He refocuses himself and aims at the newly launched green apple. Again, I do the same move. Arthur curses under his breath. In the next few attempts, Arthur tries his best to hold off on shooting, but he always ends up losing his patience and shoots his arrow first. Every time, I launch my arrows at his. The frustration in Arthur's face was apparent. As each turn came and went, I notice his hesitation to shoot his arrows grow more and more. This continues until the last two apples are readied. From my peripheral, I can see Arthur shaking from his outrage.

"Ready, a-Bland?"

"Fuck off, Robin."

I hold in a laugh as I see the last apples launch. At that moment, I grab my one perfect arrow and launch it instantly at the red fruit. I hear Arthur gasp and shoot almost immediately after. My arrow pierces through the red apple, while his misses the green apple by a margin's length. His fists clench tightly as the rest of the Merry Men cheer for me.

"Bastard!" he exclaims, "You brag that you never miss a target, but I wager my next meal you'll never hit your mark with a damaged weapon!"

I narrow my eyes. I approach the one apple I had successfully shot and yank it out from the tree trunk. I hold Arthur's gaze as I dip the fruit in the mud beneath my feet. The Merry Men grimace and groan at the sight. I take the arrow from the apple and toss the fruit at Arthur. "That is your next meal, enjoy."

Arthur's eyes widen in shock. I break the fletching off the arrow in my hand and aim at Arthur's tent. "Top of the center pole," I declare. I breathe slowly, trying to gather my thoughts. I concentrate on my target. With a calm exhale, I release the arrow in my hand. The shot pierced through the air in small circles, and for a moment, my heart stops. This was indeed a hard trick, something even I had the chance to miss. But the weapon follows through my high expectations, hitting the wooden pole at the top. The Merry Men jump in rejoice and I face Arthur with my head held high.

His jaw drops, and his eyes glance at the apple in his hand. "Bloody hell," he grumbles, nearing the fruit to his shaky mouth. I rush over to him and swat the apple away.

"Are you mad?" I scold him, a hint of amusement in my tone, "What kind of leader would I be if I allow my men to get sick over a silly wager?" I hit him lightly on the back. "Come off it, Arthur. Crushing that pride of yours is enough for me."

Arthur heaves a sigh of relief, but I say, "You still need to clean those apples, though."

Arthur nods absently. I raise my arms in the air, victorious. My Merry Men cheers again.

Suddenly, a sound of fluttering wings fill the air above me. "What on earth-?" I look up, just in time to see a white bird peck at my outstretched hand.

"Ah!" I exclaim, my hand releasing the fletching of my last arrow. I stagger away quickly. The bird croons, its head robotically tilting side to side as it eyes at the fletching I had dropped. My brows furrow, bewildered. "What's it doing?"

I receive no reply. The Merry Men observe the avian creature quietly with me.

It was a pigeon, I realize, feathers white like milk. Its small beak was pinkish with a small ridge above it, and its claws were also a similar shade of pink. Its big black eyes stare at the fletching for another split second before it took it with its beak and flew up in the sky.

"I've never seen a pigeon so selective before," I remark. Out of all the items spread in camp, it chooses that one fletching I had held in my hand. But why? Surely, it was not planning to eat it. Birds knew that much. I wonder a moment more and conclude that this bird is someone's pet. The bird was groomed exquisitely, and the specificity of its selection suggested that it was well-trained. Still, I couldn't help but wonder what the pigeon's master would do to a useless little fletching.

**REGINA**

I stare at the gift Psyche gave me yesterday. Each of the fletching's feathers are narrow and stiff. From this, I gather this archer had used this arrow a million times before. I correct my previous conclusion that this man was a novice, because he definitely was not. Or perhaps, _she_ was not. The fletching gave me no indication of this person's gender, so I did not know for sure. Whatever the case may be, I was certain this person had shot this arrow many times before he finally broke it. Why he did what he did was out of my comprehension, but it really did not matter much. I smile. What was this person doing now, with the freedom he had? Did it ever occur to him how lucky he was to roam the woods with a bow and arrow in his hand? Did he have a family? Perhaps friends to talk to? Was he ever thankful for such precious things? I could only wonder.

Psyche observes my fascination with her gift, and I face her with a grateful smile. "Your gifts are the only things that keep me from going insane," I confess. And this was true. Psyche's gifts flooded me with hope, that someday I would be able to roam freely and perhaps see with my own eyes where Psyche had plucked each item she had given me all these years. But yesterday was the first time she had actually given me a _true _item, one that used to belong to _someone_.

_One day, you'll meet him_, I think, _or her_. I giggle. It would be nice to speak with this person and describe how on earth I had known them before I actually met them. I personally did not mind if this person was a male or female. All I needed was a friend. And maybe, this person could teach me how to wield a bow and arrow, and I could share my knowledge on horse riding- of course, assuming this person did not know how to ride one.

A gush of wind blows into my room, and I sit up from my bed in surprise. I quickly hide the fletching in my drawer and I stand.

A split second later, he appears, his scaly skin gleaming beneath the soft lighting in my room. His hair is unruly as it always was, his nails blackened with dirt or magic. This man smiles at me as his dark beady eyes try to pry into my thoughts.

"I hope you've been practicing, dearie."

"I have," I respond.

Rumplestiltskin nods his head once. "Show me."

I muster a harsh exhale and bring out my hand. I stare at the jewelry box resting on my vanity table and will it toward me. Purplish smoke shrouds my hand, but it disappears as briefly as it came. I feel the weight of the jewelry box in my hand. Rumplestiltskin giggles in his high-pitched voice, something I noticed he did when he was excited.

"Excellent job, Regina." he praises me. I smirk. "We are making progress. Now it is time for our next lesson."

Before I could say another word, he grabs my hand and we disappear in a puff of smoke.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I'd like to thank all of you who expressed interest in this story and have told me how interesting you believe it is. You have all made me very happy and have given me encouragement through your kind words. You are all awesome!

**Questions to Ponder:**

- Should Robin not have stopped Arthur from eating that apple he had wagered?

- Was Robin's final shot just a fluke or the result of his skill?

- Robin's act of breaking off the fletchings- arrogance or a necessity to "level the playing field"?

- Did anyone in the Merry Men think Psyche was their next meal?

- Other thoughts, comments and questions?

Hit the review section below, let me know!

* * *

Notes:

_Arthur-a-Bland_. Appears in only one ballad, "Robin Hood and the Tanner". He is an accused poacher who wins against Robin in a fight. Impressed, Robin invites him to join his band of Merry Men.

_Little John_. Robin's lieutenant, and is often depicted as a huge man. He joins Robin's band after fighting him with quarterstaves over a river.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Hello, dear readers! Please let me know what your favorite part is so far! And if you have any comments and suggestions, or even questions, I'd love to hear them! Again, I can never thank you enough for your heartwarming support. Happy reading!

* * *

**REGINA**

I rush to my bedroom, the guilt in my heart filling me. A heart crushing lesson. _Again_. How many times did I have to kill for that imp to have me move on? I try to compose myself whilst attempting to steady my rapid breathing. The pain in those poor animal's eyes haunted me, as was the rest of the other creatures I'd killed.

Today it was a horse. It was almost always a horse, I notice, and it was not because my teacher despised them.

It was because of me. Of my love for them. Now that I think about it, I shake my head in disgust. Suddenly I realize what Rumplestiltskin is trying to do. I remember the words my mother had always said: _Love is weakness_.

How many loves did I need to sacrifice just to gain magic? Was it even worth it? I think about my mother and the lust for power I always saw in her eyes and I shudder. _Never_. Not ever. No matter what happens, she was the one person I am never going to be. She and I may have the same instrument to wield but I would never use it for evil.

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts.

"Come in."

The door opens. In comes Snow. My stomach churns as I see the pesky child. _Snow_. Perhaps with her I would make an exception to my vow.

"Oh, you're here!" she gasps, and her tears fall as if she had missed me.

"Of course I am, dear," I say, "Where else would I be?" those words mock me. I will never be anywhere else, but I don't tell the little brat in front of me.

"My father was looking for you," Snow explains, "And as have I. We thought you've been kidnapped!" she rushes to me and hugs me tight. Her tears stain my dress as she sobs. I roll my eyes.

"There, there," I tell her, caressing her hair.

"I thought I'd never see you again," she confesses, and her body shakes. "I thought… I'd lose another mother!"

My gut clenches at her words. This is what it's always been about. Her childish mommy issues. She has expressed to me time and again that she was sorry she spilled my secret. All because she didn't want me to lose my own mother. But I knew better. This wasn't about me, it was never about me. This was about _her._ She and her father have been searching for someone to take care of her the way Eva did. And when they found me, they never wanted to let go. I was their only chance at a second family.

How selfish. This brat wanted her own mother so much that she would sacrifice my own happiness, my own freedom, and the life of my true love! The anger in me sizzled.

Daniel's face flashes through my mind and I sigh. There is not a day that goes by that I hadn't thought of him.

I push Snow away from me and wipe her tears away. "It's alright, Snow. I'm here." I smile for her. She smiles back.

"Now," I begin, "Where is your father?"

Snow pulls me out my room and takes me to King Leopold. I see him gazing outside his balcony with his hands behind his back.

"Father!" Snow exclaims, "Father, I found her!"

Leopold turns to us, and when he sees me, he smiles. But in those eyes there was no expression of joy, not like Snow's. There was no relief there. My heart breaks at the thought. I did not love this man, but it would have been nice to know my husband missed me.

"Regina," he says, "I'm glad you're alright." he stares at Snow. "Please, leave us. And close the door on your way out."

Snow nods giddily and disappears from our sight. He waits until the doors close shut to finally speak to me.

"We are married, Regina," Leopold begins.

A short laugh escapes my lips at the statement. "Yes, I know." I wasn't stupid.

"So why," he asks, "Why do you insist on having your own room?"

Again, my heart breaks. He does not even ask where I'd been, or if I was alright. I turn away from him, but my mouth forms an answer. "I like the privacy."

Partially true. It was because having my own room was the closest thing I had to freedom.

I hear Leopold's footsteps come closer to where I stand. His fingertips glaze over my skin, and I jump at his touch. I whirl around. He is directly in front of me.

"Then must I always summon you to ask for your night?"

My throat tightens at his question. He has taken me many nights before, but this was the first time he complains. "Yes," I finally muster, "I guess you must."

He continues to glide his fingers across my skin, and I tense even more. "Alright, as you wish. May you be with me tonight?"

He kisses my neck and shoulders, over and over in an attempt to ease me, but I stay frozen. My heart beats fast out of fear. Fear at the anticipation of the night, a loveless night but a claiming nonetheless, and there is nothing I can do or say to stop it.

I swallow my nervousness as he takes me to his bed, and I lay down, obediently, like a pet. He does what we wants with me. My head turns away, and I shut my eyes in an attempt to escape my reality.

The bed shakes as he penetrates me. I try to ignore his groans through clenched teeth. "Do you like it?" he asks.

I hold back my sass and smile at him. "Yes, dear. I do."

He sighs. Finally, I see the relief in his eyes. He nears his head to mine and kisses my lips. I moan too, but it was a fake. I feel his mouth smile as he continues to kiss me, and I moan for him again. He does not seem to realize that I was fabricating my pleasure, or maybe, he just doesn't care. But finally he finishes, and I grimace as I feel the disgusting hot seed shoot in me. He sighs again, falling on top of me. I remain there, frozen, much like a rock. "Are you satisfied?" I ask. I feel his gasps prickle my skin, reminding me of his old age.

"Yes," he says, but I do not detect a sense of fulfillment in his voice. "Please stay with me, Eva."

My heart drops. _Eva?_ Again, that woman haunts him from beyond the grave. He rolls off me and closes his eyes to sleep.

I am left with a heavy heart, with fresh tears welling up my eyes. I rise from his bed and dress myself up. _Daniel_, I think to myself, _how I miss you so! _My tears start to fall as I rush back to my room.

What did I ever do to deserve this? Did anyone in this world really want me? Only Daniel, I realize, only Daniel did. But now he is dead. I dig my face on my pillow, sobbing. What was the use of living this life when everyone in the world treated me like their pawn? There was no love here, not anywhere close to me. I contemplate on taking my own life once more, as I always did many days and nights before.

Who would miss me? My father, of course. But who else? I shudder. If I killed myself, would I be finally reunited with Daniel? I turn my head toward the balcony and see Psyche staring at me curiously. "I'm sorry, Psyche," I say, "I can't take this anymore."

I rise up to open her cage. If I were to end my life, it would probably be best to let her go first. No one in this palace would take care of her like I did. Psyche perches on my hand and tilts her head, but I don't smile. Psyche flaps her wings. I watch curiously as she flies around my room. What was she doing?

Finally, she dives, toward the vanity table. She pecks at the paper on the desk repeatedly until she gets it in her mouth. Then, her talons grab a quill before she flies back to me. I stare in shock as my pet places the two items in my hand. Psyche croons.

"I don't have time for this," I say, "Just fly away."

Psyche does so, but instead perches above my head. I sigh frustratingly. "Stupid bird!" I set the quill and paper aside and lock her up in her cage. "If you don't want freedom, fine. Stay in there!"

She stares back at me as if oblivious to my sudden outburst.

I turn my head toward the bed and my eyes drift to the writing tools. Psyche croons again, flapping maniacally in her cage. I grumble. "Alright, alright!" I concede, and I grab the ink inside my drawer. I see the fletching I kept there and stare at it momentarily before closing my drawer.

My emotions stir as I write furiously with shaky hands. I think of my life, my hopes and dreams. I jot them all down. My fears and worries, all that I lost. Everything. My body shivers, and tears fall from my eyes again. _But I wish to die, _I conclude, _It is the only way to end my misery because there is nothing in this world I want to live for._

Then I roll it up. I release Psyche from her cage once more and tie my message on her right leg. "Go," I whisper to her, "Be free, Psyche."

The bird flies away, and I watch her as she disappears into the night.

**ROBIN**

I lead my Merry Men to Verdorben, one of the villages in King Leopold's kingdom. I had to say, the sudden change in atmosphere was quite astounding. In the days that had passed we ventured into this kingdom's main village and saw no corruption. The king and queen in this part of the land were indeed the kind and benevolent one. However even under a perfect ruler there were cracks that seeped through, particularly Verdorben, or so the locals have said. Now, as I look around me, I realize this was true.

Poverty was prevalent here. Immediately I see a man staggering in the streets with a missing leg. He extends his hat to passersby, but he is invisible to those around him. I observe a group of children roam the streets of Verdorben in rags, playing with a worn out shoe. The eldest looking child eyes at a woman intently. As she passes, the child pickpockets the pouch clipped on her side. I heave a disheartened sigh as I shake my head.

"Little John," I call, "Hand me the address, if you please."

From my peripheral, I see him nod. He pulls out the note given to us by a bartender at the main village. I glance at the street signs and realize the tax collector's office was close by. I signal my Merry Men and we dash swiftly across the night.

We arrive to the address shortly after, just in time to see the tax collector himself locking up. I wait patiently for him to leave, and when he finally does, we make our move.

I take out two small pins and place them inside the keyhole, while my men keep watch for onlookers behind me. I listen for the click and when I hear it I turn my head to my band. Arthur, Alan and Little John follow me as I proceed inside.

We get our weapons ready. Arthur and Alan ready the sacks. All of us do our usual perimeter check. When I finish, I turn to them. I see all three raise their arms with their hands in a signal that meant their end of the room was clear. I grin.

"Alright, men. Let's get to work."

At this, we all lower our weapons and begin our night raid.

* * *

"Three cheers to Robin, our valiant leader!"

Bottles clink. My men honor my name three times and I bask in the glory. Laughter surrounds the camp. I raise my own bottle and drink with everyone, my triumphant smile from ear to ear. The five sacks full of gold are in the extra tent, as usual.

"Come the 'morrow, we conquer Verdorben!" Little John proclaims. By this, he means the distribution of the gold we had collected that night. My men cheer again. I lean against a tree as I take another swig off my drink.

Arthur approaches me. "So, where to next?"

I only shrug. "Perhaps the next wretched village. But who knows what that would be, am I right?"

He smiles with me. "I only ask because of my load." he jerks his thumb toward his tent, and I chuckle as I remember what had happened the other day. Apparently, my Merry Men dared him to carry all the apples he had washed from the wager he'd done with me.

"You don't need to do it, you know," I say.

Arthur frowns. "Please, Robin. You know I must. Or else I wouldn't hear the end of it."

I smirk. "You got yourself into this mess, Arthur. Own up to it."

He grumbles, but I can tell he is amused. Then his expression turns to shock as he stares at something above me. I follow his gaze and see a white pigeon dive toward me, and my eyes widen in surprise. Before I know it, the creature perches on my right arm, and it was then that I realize it was the same bird from before.

"Well," Arthur begins, "It seems this pigeon has taken a liking to you, Robin."

I furrow my brows at the letter attached to its leg. Arthur notices it too. "Is that a letter?" he exclaims indignantly, "Is it… meant for you?"

"I don't know," I admit, but my curiosity got the better of me. "Let's find out."

I set my bottle down and carefully take the letter out of the pigeon's leg. When I open it, I skim through it briefly. The first thing that catches my attention were the final few words:

_But I wish to die._

My stomach churns, and I feel a sharp tug in my heart. I must have been horrified enough to express it in my face, for Arthur remarks, "Robin, are you alright?" he laughs at me, "You look like you've seen a ghost. What the hell is in that letter?"

I fold up the letter immediately and keep it in my pocket. "Nothing," I lie, "Just jibber jabber." I grab my bottle and finish it in one swig. The pigeon flies to my left shoulder and perches there. I hand my bottle to Arthur. "Take that for me, will you?"

I do not wait for his reply and proceed to my tent. Arthur calls after me. "Where are you going?"

I turn to him briefly. "It's getting late. I'm calling it a night."

"But-"

"I'll see you all in the morning, bright and early." I bade to everyone, and then I close up my tent.

My hands almost immediately grab the letter again, and as I open it, I realize my fingers are trembling.

_To the reader of this letter,_

_I truly wish your life has been filled with joy, as for some reason the cosmos has mocked me and stolen mine. I am a simple woman with her own simple sets of hopes and dreams. I've always loved riding horses, but I've been told to kill such creatures, and I did. The guilt inside me worsens everyday._

_I've always thought love was the most powerful magic of all, but I've also been told love was a sign of weakness. As the day of my beloved's death drifts slowly away from me with time, my sorrow heightens instead of it disappearing, and I begin to realize that my love for him has crippled me so._

_Today, I live. I live a life of luxury, but I don't want it. What use is it to me if I am unwanted? Yes, today, I live._

_But I wish to die._

Liquid marks blur the ink at the bottom, and I know for sure this woman has been crying.

_It is the only way to end my misery because there is nothing in this world I want to live for._

My throat tightens and my stomach churns. I read the letter again, in the hopes of finding a clue of the writer's identity, but found nothing.

I sort through my things in an urgent pace. Time is of the essence. This woman was going to die if I didn't act fast. I finally spot my quill. I grab the ink and paper and jot down my response as quickly as I can. Then I tie the letter on her pigeon's leg. The pigeon flies away.

"Find her," I whisper. I find myself wishing, from the bottom of my very soul, that I hope I wasn't too late to save this mystery woman.

* * *

Notes:

_Verdorben_. German word for "corrupt". (I chose the German language because the original Snow White story is of German origins.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **Hello readers! I'm so glad to see all the reviews, favorites and alerts coming from you guys! Your support has been amazing as always. Anyway, I'd like to point out that I changed the image cover of this story. It now has Robin, Regina and Psyche on it. What do you guys think? Let me know in the reviews! Without further ado, Happy Reading!

* * *

**REGINA**

My tears continue to trickle down my face. I stand on my vanity chair as I set up the rope above me. I think of my father, how much pain I will probably put him through, but I stand firm on my decision. Even if I continue to live, what chance would I have of being with him anyway?

"I'm sorry, father," I whisper. My voice is shaky and my nose has long been clogged. I could barely breathe. I finish my knot on the rope and my heart trembles. I am afraid. Afraid of the unknown, of what might happen after I finish my deed. But I shudder at the realization that anything was better than this life. Despite this, my body shakes. Adrenalin is pumping in my veins. I realize I am in panic, but my mind is set. I stare intently at the looped rope in front of me and grab it.

I continue to cry. Perhaps this was not the way to go. I shake my head. It is the only way for me to be free. I place the loop over my head and close my eyes tightly, ready to kick away my chair, the only thing separating me from life and death.

Suddenly, I hear flapping wings, and I gasp as my eyes open again. Psyche perches on my arm and croons. I realize my breaths had quickened. "I told you to go away," I whimper, "I'm going to do this, Psyche."

Then, my eyes fall to her leg, and I realize the ribbon tied around her isn't mine. I furrow my brows. A response? My heart thuds fast. From whom?

Now, Psyche pecks at the letter, as if it were uncomfortable. I remove my head from the rope and sit myself down. I could not deny the thrill that filled me. A response! For _my _letter! I unfold the letter carefully. Despite my burning eyes, I read on.

_Milady,_

_I pray my letter reaches you in time: You do not wish to die. You wish the pain to stop._

I suck in a nervous breath and I let those first few lines sink in.

_It pains me to know that you feel as though your world has caved in, that everyone around you is controlling you. I am deeply saddened to know that you feel unloved. And I understand why you would want it all to be over. But I truly hope this isn't the last I hear from you. Trust me, you will be missed. If there is no one at all you can think of that will, then think of me._

My eyes widen at the bold remark. I read that line again, over and over.

_I will think about you as I sleep tonight, as I live tomorrow, and the day after that, wondering how you are, or if I ever get the chance to see your face. If tonight shall be your passing, then I will mourn for you. Mourn for the beautiful life that has been lost, mourn for the knowledge that I will never meet someone so remarkable. I will be plagued of thoughts full of you, thoughts that won't go away until your pet gives me another letter._

I smile, but then I gasp. How could I let a stranger soften me this much?

_Milady, for what it's worth, I ask that you sleep with me tonight._

My body shudders and my tears fall as I urge myself to keep reading.

_Set aside the pain that is weighing you down, and join me in the world of dreams._

My eyes close as I sigh. My body has calmed, my thoughts clear as day. I do as he says, and think of him. I try to form someone in my head, a stranger, someone I've never met.

His face is clouded in my thoughts, but I imagine the archer from the other day. The fletching, I realize had impacted me more than I thought. This man, tall and fair, with a bow on his left hand, with a set of arrows behind him. And one of them, I assume, is a broken arrow. I allow my imagination to fill the rest of the gaps. His hair, a dark shade of brown, like Daniel's. His eyes... I think of Daniel's eyes, how many times I have lost myself in them, and I smile as I place blue eyes to this stranger. Eyes like Daniel's, for those are the only set of eyes I have ever loved.

I feel comfort in the vision, strange as it seemed. I knew it was silly, to find peace in this mystery man, but his words had done just that even without the help of my imagination. My eyes find relief from the burning as I continue to close them, and in time I feel the need to rest. I lay myself in bed, read the letter one last time, before I join this man, as he said, in sleep.

**ROBIN**

I wake up the next morning wondering if the woman I wrote to had died. I hear my Merry Men outside, talking and rustling the leaves on the ground as they prepare for distribution day, but I remain lain, frozen, staring blankly at the ceiling of my tent, worrying for a faceless stranger. A few of my men jeer about how I have overslept, especially during the day I hold of most importance. And indeed it was. Distribution day was always the most crucial part of the job; it was the day we receive the most thanks, the most smiles, the most lives saved. But today I feel numb, numb from their happiness, for it is to that woman my mind lingers. The woman I hope I had saved last night. The woman who I've never met, but hope with all my heart that her life was spared from her own hand. I sigh, deeply, as I take her letter beside me and read it once more.

How sad she must be to take the privilege of life away from herself!

_Today, I live. I live a life of luxury. But I don't want it._

I stare intently at those words and couldn't help but feel sorry for her. I've wandered from kingdom to kingdom in the hopes of putting smiles back to those in need of it, those suffering in poverty and corruption. But never have I thought of helping a person of luxury. I curse myself for thinking these people did not need help, for this one certainly did.

_What use is it to me if I am unwanted?_

Unwanted, she says! Surely that cannot be true.

Alas, I realize I had a job to do, and so I finally get up and ready myself quickly.

* * *

We arrive at Verdorben and prepare our disguises. I stare out the village to plan out our morning route. I observe some soldiers patrolling the area. Obviously the tax collector had realized the money we'd stolen already. I turn to my Merry Men. "Little John," I say, "You and Friar Tuck cover the west side of town. David, Much and Alan will head to the east, and Arthur and I shall distract the guards. Will!"

Will Stutely whirls at me with big eyes, and I realize he hasn't been listening. I sigh. "Stay here and shoot an arrow at that pole when the distribution is done." I point to the pole on the center of the square. Will nods. I turn to everyone else. "Alright men, let's move."

The Merry Men follow me at the heart of Verdorben and disperse amongst the few passersby. I glance at Arthur, who glances back at me. He nods to me subtly. We head toward the guards and begin our act.

Arthur taps a seated stranger's shoulder and when the stranger looks away, he takes the beer resting on the table. Nobody notices him but me. Arthur walks unsteadily toward a guard and bumps him on the shoulder. The guard glares at him and yells. "Hey!" he pushes him forward. "Watch where you're going!"

Arthur guffaws, the most impressive fake one I've heard him do so far. He places his hand on the guard's shoulder and pretends to fall over. "Oh, hello kind sir!"

The guard swats his hand away. I step in. "Henry, there you are!" I exclaim aloud, and I place my arm around him, "I've been looking all over for you!"

Arthur jerks away from me. "Unhand me, you bastard!"

I feel the other guards stare to our direction. I step closer to Arthur. "Come, now. Must you really be that upset?"

Arthur pushes me away. "To discover that you slept with my wife last night? Of course!" he growls, turning to one guard, "Now bugger off. I have a new brother now." He grins at the guard and attacks him with a tight hug. "Hello precious..."

Another guard yanks him away, and Arthur moans in protest. Someone from behind me tugs my robe and my face distorts in panic. "What are you doing?" I exclaim at the guard behind me.

He tightens his grip on me as he says, "I should ask you two buffoons the same question."

He forces me and Arthur to stand side by side, in front of the man I assumed was the head guard. He was a huge man, perhaps bigger than Little John, if not just as big. He crosses his arms together and eyes at us suspiciously. "What in the world is going on?"

Arthur's face droops as he cries and whines at the same time. "It's his fault, it's his fault!" he exclaims, "Please, I don't want any trouble!"

The large man glares at him pointedly. "Well you've just earned yourself some." he pulls out a knife and readies to nip him.

"You must pardon my brother," I intervene, "He's had a rough night. He's also one hell of a bloody drinker."

The head guard whirls at me with a glint in his eye. "You are brothers?"

"Not anymore," Arthur yells, "He ruined my marriage!"

"Oh, come off it, Arthur," I snap. My heart drops. Arthur turns to me, his expression flooded with terror. I slipped! For the love of King Richard, I slipped!

The head guard steps closer to me, looking more suspicious than he had been before. "Arthur?" he says, "I thought his name was Henry."

The guard behind me takes off my hat and eye patch. He removes the scarf wrapped around my neck and my head drops in shame. The head guard grins. "Robin Hood," he realizes, "The wanted outlaw of Nottingham."

His accusation is met by Arthur's wild laugh. "That's rich, sir," he begins, "My brother? A wanted outlaw?" he shakes his head. "Please. He could barely stay up for my wife."

The guard behind Arthur gags him and cuffs his hands from the front, while the head guard continues to stare at me with a wicked smile. My hands are brought behind me and I too am cuffed.

"I wonder how much gold the Sherriff of Nottingham will give me to turn you in," The head guard says. Then he all but barks out, "Where's the rest of them?"

I raise my brows. "I beg your pardon?"

He growls. He grabs me by the neck and pushes me against the wall of the tax collector's office. I flinch at the impact.

"I have no time for your games, Prince of Thieves!" he bellows. He places his knife against my neck and continues, "I know they're here somewhere. Tell me where your men are! And hand over the gold you stole!"

I attempt to swallow, but it is hard from the head guard's grip.

At the center of Verdorben's square, an arrow is shot at the top of the pole.

The guards do not seem to notice this. I grin. "Well, being the honorable man that I am, I'm going to count to three." They are surprised at the confidence in my tone. "If you don't put me down by then, I assure you, you and your men will get hurt."

The head guard chuckles. He thinks I am bluffing, like most of them do. "One."

He turns his head to the guard who took me. "Is he serious?"

"Two."

"His arrogance knows no bounds!"

I glance at Arthur and he gives me a knowing look. "Three."

Arthur collides his head against the guard behind him. With a swift movement, he grabs the guard's sword and two more men attack him. The head guard turns his head toward them. I take this opportunity to knee him in between his legs, and he curses under his breath. I push him off me. The guard who cuffed me draws his sword. I move out of the way as he swings his weapon at me. I jump and move my cuffed hands to the front. The guard swings at me again, but I dodge it once more. For a moment my hands glaze over his hip. I steal his keys but he does not notice.

"Terribly sorry," I murmur, "But in my defense, I _did_ warn your leader."

His face twists in anger as he yells at my face. I run, only to buy myself some time to uncuff myself. I glance behind me and realize the guards had given me chase. I kick off the barrels I pass. Thuds and groans echo behind me soon after and I smile. Finally, I twist the key and the cuffs come off. I dash faster, toward Little John, who tosses me my bow and a quiver full of arrows. I sling the quiver over my shoulder, grab an arrow, turn, aim and shoot.

I hit a guard. I shoot again. Another one falls. A few of them take out their bows and shoot me back. I jump behind a tree. When I peek my head out, an arrow is heading toward me. Thinking quickly, I move aside and grab it. I position the arrow I catch and shoot it back.

The guards eventually catch up to me, but only a few of them are left. They take out their swords and attack. The first sword strikes me and I fall to the ground, but I am unscathed. I see the blade fall on me again but I roll out of the way and pick myself up. I grab an arrow behind me but I don't shoot; instead I stab the guard in front of me. He yells. The grip on his sword loosens, and I grab his weapon. Two guards come after me, and I spar with them, sword against swords.

"Is this really the legendary outlaw?" asks one guard, "I could've sworn he is better than this. I'm not even breaking a sweat!"

I glare at him, but I am too busy deflecting two attacks. Finally, I see an opening. I stab his partner on the stomach and he cries out. From my peripheral the guard who mocked me attempts to attack once more, but I side step and he loses his balance. I grab his own sword and kick him to the ground. Before he could get up, I cross my blades and trap his neck in between.

"You're right," I admit, "This is an off-day for me. But apparently it's enough to best you."

He growls, the veins on his neck straining.

I smirk, then wink.

"Robin!" I turn my head and see Friar Tuck and the others run toward me. "Hurry!"

"Looks like I've got to leave," I tell the guard below me. "I'd love to stay and chat, but duty calls." Then I run, grinning ear to ear as the citizens of Verdorben thank us when we pass.

We don't stop running until we reach our camp. By this time, the guards are long gone. My Merry Men drop to the ground, panting as heavily as I.

"Good job, men," I say in between breaths, "Verdorben-is conquered!"

"By a bloody hair," Arthur grumbles. He approaches me with obvious anger in each step. "What the hell was that?"

I try to calm my ragged breathing. "I slipped," I say simply, "Happens to all, a-Bland. Even me."

He shakes his head. "No. It's something else." he eyes me from head to toe, ever briefly, before he responds, "It's that letter, isn't it?"

I flinch. Arthur's brow furrows. "What the hell was in that letter, Hood?"

"Nothing that concerns you," I reply.

"I beg to differ," Arthur retorts, "You almost got us all killed!"

I force out a laugh. "I got us all out of there unscathed, did I not? Frankly, I worry more about your jokes regarding my sexual prowess," I inch closer to him so that we are looking eye to eye, "Your fictitious wife would have been left utterly ravished in my bed."

Arthur narrows his eyes. He does not speak for a beat or two, until finally he says, "For all our sakes, Robin, I bloody well hope you get that letter straightened out." Then he walks past me, proceeding inside his tent without another word.

Little John approaches me. I glance at him and realize he is about to ask me something I don't feel like discussing. I heave a frustrated sigh and walk away, out of the camp, and out of my Merry Men's sight.

* * *

**Questions to Ponder:**

- Thoughts on Regina's suicide attempt scene?

- Thoughts on Robin's first letter?

- Which is your favorite line and why? (In this chapter and the previous ones; can be multiple)

- Arthur's attack on Robin's "sexual prowess": Out of line or Part of the Act?

- And the outlaw MVP goes to...?

- A lot of moves are depicted here, from stealing a beer from a stranger, to stealing the keys from the guards, to the sword fighting and arrow shooting. Which is your favorite move and why? (can be multiple)

- Other questions, comments, suggestions?

Hit the review section below, let me know!

* * *

Notes:

_Much the Miller's Son_. Youngest of the Merry Men, son of a Miller.

_David of Doncaster._ Warns Robin of a rigged archery contest.

_Will Stutely_. Often confused with "Will Scarlet". Stutley gives Little John his outlaw name.

_Friar Tuck._ Jolly, alcohol-loving man of God.

_Alan-a-Dale_. Helps Robin rescue a damsel in the ballad, "Robin Hood and Allan a Dale".

_Quiver_. Container archers use to keep their arrows, usually worn behind the archer's back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** A reader has expressed curiosity as to why Psyche is drawn to our favorite outlaw, so I decide to explore that on this chapter. ^_^ Happy reading!

* * *

**ROBIN**

"Come on, milady."

I stare out at the creek with the mystery woman's letter in my hand. Thoughts of her flooded my mind like a plague. My heart beats faster as I dread the worst. I find myself yearning for her to write back. When I look up at the sky, I hope see her pet pigeon fluttering toward me in clumsy eagerness. I look out at the sky. Nothing.

I sigh frustratingly. How did it come down to this? Me, the Prince of Thieves, mulling over some stranger's well-being? It could may as well be an elaborate prank. Still, she floods my mind, the woman without a face. I've always known my own downfall was a woman (it always was for us men), but I never thought it would be anything like this.

I wait for hours, or what seemed like hours, but there was not a pigeon in sight. I sit by the clearing and wait some more.

What if this woman was already dead? Of course, the possibility had already crossed my mind, but as time passed me by, this notion was slowly starting to ring true. Or maybe perhaps she found happiness in her life and no longer needed someone to write to. For this, I am happy for her, but alas, I was under such a bizarre circumstance that I needed to make sure.

Fluttering wings filled the sky, and my heart skips a beat. The pigeon! I think, and I nearly get up to look around in anticipation. There it was again, the fluttering. I step forward, thinking of how silly it was for me to get too excited over nothing.

The branches above me rustle; leaves fall to the ground. And there it is, the bird of the hour. I raise my arm up to it in an attempt to coax it closer to me.

Another letter is tied around its leg, and the sight of it relieves me. The bird perches on my arm and croons.

Carefully, I untie the letter and read it.

_Hello,_

_I apologize for my late reply. My activities for the day has preoccupied me that I had not had a time to rest and write back. I imagine I have worried you so. _

The line puts a smile to my face. You have no idea, milady.

_Thank you for writing to me. Your letter has given me much joy._

My shoulders ease. It felt good to know I've made her feel better.

_Perchance, may I know your name? It would be nice to put a name to the man who saved me._

At this, I freeze. The thought of this had never crossed my mind. A thousand implications rush through me at once. My name? What would she do if she found out an outlaw's name? I cringe as I imagine the possibilities. And what will become of my Merry Men? I read on.

_I assume you are the same man my pet took the fletching from. This item has truly given me much wonder of the life you lead. Please, do tell me, what is your life like? I am eager to know what life is in the eyes of someone else._

_As for me, I am a prisoner of sorts. I live my life within the confines of my home, assisting my husband and step-daughter with anything they may need. I have to admit, I am quite jealous of you, as I imagine your life to be much freer than mine._

_I await for your reply earnestly. And please, take care of my pet. I know not where you are, and she may have flown a longer distance than she is used to. I pray she is strong and well once she reaches back to me tomorrow._

_By the way, her name is Psyche._

I turn to the pigeon perched on my shoulder. "Hello there, Psyche," I murmur with a smile. Psyche tilts her head at me curiously. "You're quite a marvelous specimen."

She hums lightly in response. I stand. "Come on. Let's head back to camp. We have lots of apples and seeds for you to eat."

When Psyche and I return, the Merry Men were already eating around in a circle in a small campfire. I take my seat beside Little John and Friar Tuck. John turns to me.

"Who's your friend?" he asks, nodding his head toward Psyche.

"The messenger bird from the other day," I say, "Her name is Psyche."

I can feel Arthur's eyes glaring at the letter in my hand. Little John frowns. "We're naming it?" he mumbles, "Does this mean it can't be dinner?"

"_She_," I correct, "And _no_. We're not eating her. She is a pet."

"Of ours?" Friar Tuck confirms.

"Of someone's," I remark.

Arthur finally speaks up. "That woman in the letter, I presume?"

I turn my attention to him. Arthur's expression was unusually calm. He grins. "Of course, it's a woman. It always is with you," he chuckles.

I smirk. "It's not what you think, Arthur."

"No, 'course not," Arthur says with obvious sarcasm. He takes the ladle in the pot in front of us and pours himself another portion of broth, "I just hope you keep your head together despite the siren in your midst."

Controlled snickers surround me. Even I couldn't help but feel amused. "I have it under control, Arthur."

Suddenly, Psyche flaps her wings violently from my shoulder and I jolt away in surprise. The Merry Men watch guardedly as she hovers above us. Then, she faces Arthur's direction and dives at him.

"Bloody hell!" he yells, moving away from the bird. He falls off the log he sat on and the soup spills all over him. He hisses. "God damn it!"

The Merry Men and I jeer at him, laughing at his misery as the small bird pecks at the tiny apple bits where the soup had fallen. Arthur waves his hand at Psyche in an attempt to swat her. "Get that stupid fowl away from me!"

The bird flies away from his violent swipes, and instead heads toward Arthur's tent. I chuckle. "She likes you," I realize, "You should be glad. She's the first female to look your way."

"Probably the _only _one," Friar Tuck adds.

The other men laugh. Arthur grumbles. "Shut the hell up!"

I proceed to Arthur's tent to retrieve Psyche. When I enter, I see her pecking at the apple sack repeatedly. My eyes flicker in understanding.

"Apples," I say, "You like apples!" I step closer to her and take a green apple from the sack. "You want some?"

Psyche flies inside the sack and I look on. She is perched above the red apples. "You like _red _apples," I say. I take one from the sack and return the green variant. Psyche perches to my shoulder again, but her eyes stare at the fruit in my hand. "I imagine it would be hard for you to eat it like this, too." I tell her. I proceed out the tent. "Don't worry, darling. I'll cut you up some slices."

I realize this was why her attention is driven toward me the other day, and Arthur back at the fire.

Later that night, I write to the mystery woman.

_Milady,_

_Do not fret about Psyche. She will always be nurtured and protected under my care._

I remember Arthur's death glare at Psyche as I fed her. I grin at the memory. The Merry Men and I continued with the insults. For this, the Merry Men agreed, Psyche's first night would not be her last. I continue to write.

_I am pleased to know you have chosen to live, and even more delighted to know my words have helped you through such hard times._

_I apologize Milady, for my circumstance…_

**REGINA**

"..._has prevented me from giving you my actual name. But you may call me Reynard."_

Reynard, he says. Reynard is his name. Or technically, his pen name. I twirl my hair playfully as I continue to read the letter aloud, "_And yes, I am the man who owns the fletching you now possess. As you may already know, I am an archer. My life is spent travelling with my friends, and we help those who are less fortunate._"

A humanitarian, I think. Or a monk. I crinkle my nose. I doubt this man was a missionary.

"_Life outside four corners is indeed free. There is almost never a dull moment for me. However, due to this circumstance, I am unable to settle down, and for that I am jealous of you._"

Jealous? I wonder. Of _me_? The thought was so ridiculous that I laugh to myself at such a strange notion. There was nothing about my life to be jealous about.

"_I've always thought one day I would meet a woman I'd marry and have my child. But my freedom has prevented me to have such a luxury._ Oh!" I exclaim. Finally I understand. Reynard wanted a family of his own. I think of Leopold and Snow and I shudder. I actually made him think these people were my… family?

_Milady, may I also ask for your name?_

The letter ends there. I try to scrub the smile off my face but I cannot, and I shriek in excitement as I grab the paper I had readied on my bedside table. How intriguing, speaking with this man, whom I never even met! Speaking, _conversing_, like he was actually here, talking to me, getting to know me. A man, I realize who lives _outside_!

How thrilling, indeed. I dab my quill with ink and write, but I stop as I remember: I am the queen. _The Queen! _I scream in my head. My heart drops. What would he think of me if I disclose of my real identity? The fear of him not writing back floods my thoughts. But what if he still does?

I shake my head. No. I cannot risk it. I don't want to lose him.

_I cannot give you my actual name either, but you may call me Ravenna._

He writes me back shortly after: "_Ravenna. It's nice to know you, Ravenna. I look forward to hearing from you soon._"

* * *

**Questions to Ponder:**

- Favorite Regina/Robin letter exchange and why?

- The green apple: If Psyche tries it, will she like it?

- Thoughts on Robin and Regina's pen names?

- Suggestions for upcoming chapters? Perhaps a scene you'd like to see and/or recommend?

Hit the review section below, let me know!

* * *

_Notes:_

_Ravenna._ Name is derived from another Snow White adaptation, "Snow White and the Huntsman". The Queen's name was Ravenna.

_Reynard. _Name is derived from Disney's adaptation of _Robin Hood._ Disney expressed wishes to make a movie about _Reynard the Fox_, but later on decided to incorporate Robin Hood's story with it, the reason for this being Reynard is not fit to be a proper "Disney hero". However, this is why Robin is depicted as a fox in the Disney adaptation!


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Hello readers! I'm very happy to hear from all of you. All those reviews, PM's, favorites, and alerts mean a lot to me, so thank you very much! I would like to take this moment to answer a couple of your questions. If you have any comments, suggestions, or questions about the story, please let me know on your next review! Happy Reading!

**Reader's Questions:**

1. **What inspired you to write this type of story?** I've received a bunch of comments telling me that this story has a unique premise, and I'd like to thank you all for your kind words. :) But anyway, I got the idea when my boyfriend and I were texting back and forth. I thought to myself, wouldn't it be nice if Outlaw Queen did something like that? I toyed with the idea in my head and realized it would be so cute and romantic if they did so via a messenger pigeon back in the Enchanted Forest. And there you have it. Also, as I was writing, I got "The Lakehouse" movie vibe to this. Don't know if you guys felt the same way.

2. **Will Robin and Regina ever meet?** That's part of the story question, so I can't really answer that. Hopefully I fulfill all your Outlaw Queen desires by the end of this story!

* * *

**REGINA**

I continue to write to this man, Reynard. He tells me of his many adventures, first at Verdorben, and then Corrom, and so on, all of which I knew were villages my husband hasn't particularly been attending to. And my mind wanders, constantly, outside the palace walls and into his escapades, and I feel like I am there with him. There, as he helps those who are unfortunate than he. How wonderful, I think, to fight alongside such a righteous and honorable man.

I tell him my dreams, what I wanted out of my life. To live. To run. To finally ride a horse again, a horse that can carry me away through the next land.

"_You really love horses, don't you?_" he asks.

"_Yes, indeed I do._"

I must have piqued his curiosity, for his next letter reads, "_Why don't you? I assume your family knows of this, and they surely love you enough to have your dreams met._"

I crinkle my nose in disgust. Leopold and Snow are _not_ family. They trapped me into a marriage that was not mine to decide. My fate was never mine to choose. And for this, I hate them. But instead, I write: "_It's complicated. Just know that I cannot have that luxury even if I yearned it_."

He apologizes to me, for making such a pointed remark. Then, he makes a joke: "_What would your husband think if he finds out you've been writing to another man?"_

Did he mean for me to laugh? If so, he had failed, for all I could sense was a slight tinge of envy. He flatters me, I realize. I write back to him, trying to contain the teenage thrill reverberating through my body: "_You need not be jealous of my husband and step-child. Trust me, it is not as perfect as it seems."_

Several weeks go by and he writes a letter with a question that intrigues me once more: "_You mentioned the love of your life has died. But what of your husband?_" he asks, "_I never once heard from you that you loved him._" The voice I assigned to Reynard echoes in my head.

"_My husband is definitely not the man I love." _I hope he senses the hatred I have for him as I continue, "_The man I love is long gone- Daniel was his name._"

I imagine his concerned expression. "_Sounds like you have yet to move on._"

I sigh. "_I haven't._"

The letter after that took a while, and I think perhaps he had already travelled away. But alas, Psyche returns to me with another. "_What happened to him?_" he asks.

I get nervous, for the first time. Reynard wanted me to tell him of a memory so dear to my heart, a painful reality that I struggle to live with everyday. This, I realize, was information I would definitely not reveal to a stranger. And yet, a part of me feels like I've always known him, that I've always been with him for longer than the several weeks we've talked. So I allow it. I let myself be vulnerable to him, this man whose face I have yet to see. With Reynard, I trust my deepest regret.

"_My mother killed him, so he died. He died because he loved me._"

**ROBIN**

Such simple words, yet through these words she suffers. Ravenna's emotions seep through her letter, and I feel the anguish she feels. My heart mourns for her loss, and I sense we are enduring this pain together.

"_I am truly sorry to hear that,_" I tell her, "_I can only imagine how hard that must have been."_

I imagine her tears, her sorrowful face, and I curse myself for even asking such a personal question.

To my surprise, she does not seem fazed, and instead asks me a personal question of her own: "_I know you've said you have yet to settle down, but I find it hard to imagine you have not met anyone you at least thought was a potential mate. Have you?_"

I chuckle. "_You are quite keen, Ravenna._" I think back on my travels, starting from my town of Loxley. "_Indeed there were fair maidens that have piqued my interest, but never enough to join me with my band of M-"_ I stop myself, "-_arvelous friends._"

"_Marvelous?_" she repeats, and I can tell she is laughing at me, "_You must be very close to these friends of yours._"

I laugh. "_Yes. Indeed I am._"

How unfortunate, I think. For a woman such as Ravenna to be locked up in her home. It did not sit well with me at all. She was a free spirit, as I have deduced from her reactions of my adventures. I find myself wishing for her smile, to one day hear her laugh. But today, just knowing that she did so would be good enough for me.

I walk in the streets of Corrom alone wearing a full-on disguise. I observe the market stalls and I eye casually at some jewels on display. Would Ravenna like them? Was she even a woman who liked these things? A merchant must have noticed my oggling, for she stands up and approaches me.

"Come look, come look!" she welcomes, her voice rasped from old age. I chuckle lightly but I decide to amuse her so I follow. She presents to me a silver necklace, with a sapphire stone in the middle. "I can give you a good price for this," she says proudly, "Beautiful for a special someone, no?"

I smile. "It does seem pretty."

"For you sir, eighty pieces of silver."

My eyes widen. "Eighty? That is a bit much." I shake my head politely. "I'm afraid I cannot afford such a thing."

"Name your price," the woman says. But again, I laugh. "I do not have money at all."

At this revelation, the woman huffs and turns away, as if disappointed that she wasted her time on me. I make no effort to hide my amusement.

"Is this true?" someone says from behind me, and I turn. My features soften as I recognize the man.

"Hello Barclay," I greet. He nods to me. Barclay, the new Sherrif of Corrom, whom I and my Merry Men have helped a couple days ago to overthrow his brother's harsh reign in the village. He recognizes me through my disguise, but does not at all mention my name.

"What brings you back here, sir?" he asks me.

I shrug. "You know. Perusing."

Barclay chuckles. "_Perusing_?" he repeats, "If I hadn't known any better I'd say you're looking for something to take." _Steal_, he means to say, but again he does not say so in public, "For a maiden, I presume?"

I chuckle. "I am offended, Barclay. For you to even accuse me of such matters."

"Taking or wooing a maiden?"

"Both."

A laugh escapes his throat, and he invites me to a bar for a drink.

* * *

"I'm looking for a gift," I confess as I down a swig of beer. Barclay, who is beside me, nods his head in understanding.

"So I'm right."

I look at him grimly. "Yes. And yes, for a woman."

Barclay laughs at me. "Of course. Is she pretty?"

I hesitate. I do not even know. I answer the Sherrif with a light shrug. "I would assume so, yes."

He looks at me with a puzzled expression, but I refuse to say more. He smirks. "You wish to impress her with gifts?"

"Make her smile," I correct, "And one gift would suffice. I do not wish to overwhelm her."

Barclay laughs. "Sounds simple enough, name it."

My eyes glint at the easiness of his offering that I had to inch closer to him with a bewildered expression. "Just like that?"

"It's the least I could do, after what you've done for…" his voice trails off, but he eyes me a look as he gestures his head from one side to another. _The village of Corrom_, he wanted to say. I smirk. "Anything?"

My eyes drift toward something right outside the bar and I realize I know exactly what to give her.

**REGINA**

Psyche flies to my balcony with a usual letter tied to her leg. I open it eagerly. Nowadays, it is Reynard's letter that brings me joy. But when I open it, there is nothing but a single sentence:

_I have a surprise for you. _

My brows furrow. I turn the paper over and realize it is a map of the main village, with an X marked there.

_I won't be there, if that's what you're thinking._ Somehow, I feel disappointment at the revelation. _But come to the marked location whenever you can. I assure you it will be worth it._

I bite my lower lip to hold in my excitement. I study the map carefully.

"Okay," I say to myself. I exhale nervously, and try to remember the transportation spell Rumplestiltskin taught me a week ago. I should be able to do it now, without any limbs left between locations. Still, I am scared. I swallow my nervousness away. Concentration, her mentor told her, was the key to a successful transportation spell. I close my eyes and wave my hand over myself as I imagine the location Reynard told me to go to.

I open my eyes. My jaw drops.

A horse is in front of me, a horse with a saddle on it. He was beautiful, his brown mane perfectly combed and hooves properly maintained. Whose horse was this, I wonder, was it his? I laugh. Or perhaps he stole it for me.

I run toward the horse eagerly. There is a note clipped on the reins. I unfold it and read what it says.

_I do apologize for not being here, Ravenna, as I am with my friends on a raid today. But please do enjoy yourself. You deserve this._

I swoon, pressing the letter against my chest. How wonderful, these warm feelings that surface within me. And how strange, that it was a faceless man who would impose on me such excitement. No one has given me this at all, except…

"Daniel," I utter, and my smile fades. _Daniel_. My heart breaks as I remember him, the way he held me, the way he loved me. Tears start to blur my vision, but I hold them back. No, I cannot feel sad. Not now, that this man has given me such a wonderful gift. I wave my arms over myself once again. My queenly attire was gone, replaced with my outdoorsy look, one I haven't worn in a long time, but I so much more preferred.

I heave a sigh, then smile. "Thank you." _Thank you, Reynard._

Then, I mount myself on the horse, and urge the animal on. The horse neighs, and when I snap its reins, it gallops away through the woods. I feel the wind blowing in my face, my heart thudding wildly beneath my chest and I utter a laugh, a fun, innocent laugh. How surprising, this sound, of my voice so joyous. I have almost forgotten what it felt like to be this happy.

**ROBIN**

"_Did you like it?_" I write.

She replies to me and I imagine her excited voice: "_I loved it!_ _It was truly wonderful, Reynard. Thank you. I only wish you were there to see me._"

My heart tugs at me as I see what she had written at the end. She wishes to see me. To actually meet.

I stare out at the view of the main city. King Leopold's castle stood tall in the background. The streets, unlike the other villages my men and I had visited, are properly tiled with smooth stones. Indeed, all the houses were painted well, windows unbroken, and citizens were properly clothed. Perhaps a little too fancy, I realize.

Colorful flags are hung from house to house, and as I listen more intently, I can hear the faint whimsical music coming from the center of the village. "_Is there a festival?"_ I ask her.

"_Yes,_" she replies, "_The festival of harvest, to commemorate the end of a growing season. The kingdom is abuzz of the upcoming ball._"

A ball, she says. My heart quickens. Perhaps this was finally the chance for me to meet her. "_Shall you be there?_"

"_I shall_," she responds, _"And you?_"

I hesitate. Truth be told, the Merry Men and I were planning on leaving Leopold's kingdom soon. "_I'll see if I can, Ravenna._" My stomach churns. What is this feeling? I know what it was, but it was quite strange to admit it: _dread_. Dread! The feeling of dread, that I may never see Ravenna. The feeling of fear, that I would leave Leopold's kingdom, perhaps for good, and never write to her again. I find myself at odds with a realization that this woman, despite never meeting her, was someone who enthralled me. How was this possible?

"I need to see her," I utter.

Little John, turns his head to me. "What?"

"_Her, _Little John!" I exclaim, presenting the letter I held in my hand. "Ravenna. I want to meet her."

Little John looks at me with seriousness in his eyes. "We should stick to the plan, Robin."

I frown. In any other circumstance, I would be the first to say those very words. But something has changed. Little John continues, "We have one more village left before we take our leave for Arendelle."

"I know," I say, "But perhaps there's more to Leopold's kingdom we can explore."

Little John laughs. "What more could we do here? Leopold is a benevolent king. Most of his people need no help from us."

_The poor_, I think, the poor do not. But after hearing Ravenna's story, I find myself wondering if the rich of this land had similar problems. Alas, I sigh. Psyche, who has been perched on my shoulder, croons loudly.

_Psyche is hungry_, I think, and then I smile, for I just now realized how often this bird has gone to and from me that I've grown too accustomed to her habits. "Right," I murmur, petting the bird lightly, "Let's get you some apples, darling."

How long can I keep this communication with this woman? Ravenna, whose real name I have no inkling of. Perhaps I have met her already, perhaps I have not. But for the first time, I know where she will be. King Leopold's ball.

As I cut a red apple for Psyche, I wonder to myself how I can even do it. To see her, to be with her. To actually speak with her, in person. The Merry Men would surely be against it; of course they would. We've done enough raids in this kingdom to start horrible rumours. Rumours that would cost us our lives. Rumours that, by now, probably would have reached King Leopold.

I watch Psyche as she pecks at the apple bites I made for her. I think of her master, Ravenna. _Ravenna_. There were countless nights that I wondered what her actual name really was. How she would look when she smiled, or how she sounded when she laughed. I had to know.

I look at the letter I have yet to write to her: "_I'll see if I can, Ravenna_." My stomach churns. How can turning down a stranger be so hard?

But she isn't a stranger, I counter myself. I knew her. I knew her very well, that she liked horses, that she longed for freedom. That she has an estranged relationship with her mother, and a loving father. A husband and step-child. And a lost love. _Daniel_. I sigh. Has Ravenna thought of me the same way I thought of her? Has she, perchance, brought me to the same light as, dare I say, Daniel?

I grumble. What torture do I put myself through, for a dame who's face I don't even know?

"Hey."

I turn my head to see who it is. Arthur. "Good evening," I greet.

Arthur sits by my side, and we both stare at Psyche for a moment until he finally starts speaking. "The others and I have been talking."

I nod. He glances at me briefly before he continues, "This… woman. This Ravenna. We've noticed you've become…"

"Soft?" I suggest, and I look at him with a smirk. He chuckles. "Well, I was going to go for 'a little pansy', but soft works too."

We both laugh. I shake my head. "That woman, Arthur. There's something about her. I can't quite put a finger on it. It's like… I'm supposed to know her." I turn to him. "Is that strange?"

"Yes, yes it is," Arthur admits, "Our leader has gone from valiant outlaw to a bloody prince charming."

I laugh again. "I can't stop thinking about her."

Arthur sighs. "Well. I am personally against it. And frankly, so are the others, but…" he looks up to me, and I am surprised to see the determined look on his face, "At the end of the day, you are still our leader."

My eyes widen in shock. Arthur grunts, "If you want to see the siren at that ball and play prince for a day, be my guest. Just… don't let us all die for the sake of one woman."

I grin. "Do you really think I'd sink you all in for her?"

Arthur hesitates, and to my horror, I realize he has every right to. I shake my head. "Thank you," I say instead, "For this."

"You owe me," Arthur replies, but I sense the humor in his tone. Psyche flies over to Arthur and croons beside his ear. He shivers, swats her away. "Get that thing away from me!"

I smirk. "Why? She likes you."

Arthur grumbles, and he stands and storms off, leaving me to my thoughts of Ravenna once more. I throw away the paper I had written and re-write my new response: "_Yes, Ravenna. I shall be there. Wait for me._"

* * *

**Questions to Ponder:**

1. Favorite scene and why?

2. Favorite letter sequence and why?

3. Do the Merry Men have a reason to be worried about their well-being due to Robin's recent actions?

4. Predictions? Comments? Suggestions?

Hit the review section below, let me know!


	7. Chapter 7

**REGINA**

I nearly shriek when I read Reynard's letter. _We shall rendezvous outside the banquet hall, in the royal gardens. _I set the letter down excitedly. Tonight, I can finally meet this man! I smile to myself, then giggle, then laugh.

All day, there was nothing else I thought about. I wait impatiently for night to fall, and as it did the hysteria bubbling within me almost makes me sick. But I don't care, because I will finally meet him for the first time. I rush to my closet, wondering what to wear. Tonight is a special night, I must look my best!

I take a green dress, a pink one, then blue, and place them over me one by one. Was it too fancy? Too skinny? Too frilly? I shake my head at my silliness. Gods, this man has turned me into Snow White overnight! I shudder at the thought. This was a little strange. I never thought of myself as the type of woman to get this much thrill over a man, especially one I have yet to meet. Psyche perches on my shoulder and tilts her head as she stares at the mirror with me. I suppose she is admiring herself, or wondering if there was a second bird in the room, but I pretend she is admiring me.

"What do you think, Psyche?" I ask, "Which one should I wear?" I glance at Psyche who of course does not reply. "You look great no matter what you wear, Regina!" I answer for her, my voice becoming higher pitched. I laugh. "Why thank you, Psyche!" I say, "But you've met Reynard. Tell me, what does he like?" I make my voice higher pitched again as I respond: "All he wants is to see you, Regina!" Then I glare at my pet. "You are _not_ helping."

I turn my attention back to the mirror and snap my fingers. A puff of smoke surrounds me. As it clears, I see myself wearing the green gown. I turn my body so I can see the back, then shake my head. I snap my fingers again. When the smoke came and went, I am now wearing a pink gown. I grimace. "Ew. Seriously?" I snap my fingers once more. This time, I am wearing a midnight blue gown with a long trail behind me, but not too long that I may trip on it. The gown accentuated my curves instead of it being layered and puffy. I observe the slenderness of the shoulder cut, and the feather-fanned diamond studs by the waist, and realize I look absolutely gorgeous.

"Wonderful," I say. I head over to my vanity table and look through my jewelry collection. I end up choosing to wear a pair of diamond dangling earrings with its matching sapphire necklace. Then I fuss over my hair, wondering if I should style it up or down. _Down_, I decide. And I fix it so it looks luscious and curled. Finally, as it is customary, I place my crown above my head. By the time I finish my make up, my husband fetches me from my room. "Are you ready, my dear?"

I stand from my seat and walk up to him, and even he is impressed by my appearance. He smiles. "You look beautiful, Regina."

I bow to him politely. "Thank you." He takes me by the hand and we walk to the banquet hall.

…

Voices echo throughout the room as the guests mingle amongst one another. My eyes keep drifting toward the windows just to peer at the royal gardens outside.

"Regina," Leopold addresses. His voice stuns me, but I turn to him looking innocent. He eyes at me with calm suspiciousness, then gestures toward the crowd. "The people are here, my dear. Not outside."

I smile. "Yes," then nod sheepishly, "I apologize."

We both sit at the throne as our guests walk to us by party. I force out a smile, but deep inside I start to panic. I completely forgot, it is customary for the guests to bring gifts of their harvest and present it to the King and Queen. My heart thuds in my chest. How long will Reynard wait for me outside? I steal quick glances, hoping to see him, but my attention is always directed back at the guests who are bowing in front of me.

They present us with their gifts, one by one, and so utterly leisure. I hold back a grumble and continue to smile. But my heart skips a beat when I catch a glimpse of shadow movements from outside. I sigh. Perhaps these blasted offerings would end soon enough.

I wait impatiently as the last guest finally bows again to leave, and I nearly spring out my seat. Leopold looks at me strangely. I try to laugh it off. "I apologize. I thought… I felt something bite me." I rub my arms. What a horrible excuse, Regina. Utterly horrible. "I… I would like to get some fresh air," I say immediately. But before I take my leave, Johanna runs toward me in alarm.

"Your highness," she bows to me before rising up and continues, "Snow is having an upset stomach. She is calling for you."

My eyebrows furrow, for that was perhaps the most floor-shocking statement I'd heard all day.

"Me?" I repeat. Why did it have to be me?

Johanna nods once more. "She wishes for her mother, your highness."

I turn to Leopold, but I'm not quite sure why I did so. Perhaps it was the hope that he'd understand me for the first time, that I wanted to do something else, that he was the more appropriate parent to console Snow. But Leopold only smiles and gestures me away. He thinks I love this. He thinks I love him and his stupid whiny daughter.

I nod to my husband and stiffly proceed to follow Johanna.

How long will Reynard wait? My nerves begin to surface, and even Johanna senses it.

"Your highness, are you alright?" she asks, "You seem… disturbed."

"I'm _fine_," I snap, but I feel immediate guilt at my attitude. I sigh. "I'm sorry, Johanna. I'm a little… stressed lately."

"It is quite alright, your highness," Johanna says graciously, then opens the door to Snow's room. There, I see the child, coughing and shivering in her ivory-colored bed. She turns her head to my direction, and when she sees me, her face lights up. "Regina!" she exclaims, "Oh, I'm so glad you're here…"

My anger boils within me, at the thought of having to waste my time caring for a bratty little princess while Reynard awaits in the cold night for a faceless woman who never bothered to meet with him after all.

"What's wrong, dear?" I managed to say despite my thoughts. Snow answers me with a groan and she winces as she clutches her stomach.

"I think I've eaten something bad at lunch today." She sits up and moans once more as she leans forward. "It hurts!"

I instinctively rush to her side. "Snow!" I say, and before I realize it my arms surround her.

"Ugh…" she mumbles, then she grabs the bucket Johanna had probably placed earlier beside her bed and begins to throw up. The pungent odor of her pre-digested food wafts around us, and I grimace, but I don't turn away, knowing Johanna was behind me. I rub her back. "Just let it out, Snow, it's okay. I'm here." I have no choice, apparently.

**ROBIN**

I continue to stare out the royal garden with my hands behind my back. My stomach churns every other minute that passes by me in which Ravenna does not show. My heart quickens at the thought of something that could have happened to her. I go over the letter I sent her. Had I not written that I'd be there at the ball, by the gardens? Fear crashes down on me as I realize she hadn't responded after that. I sigh frustratingly. How arrogant of me to _assume_ she would want to meet!

Had I really been that blind? Had I misread the signs? After all, Ravenna merely wanted someone to talk to. Perhaps this letter exchange we had been doing was enough for her. The realization came to me like a stab through my heart. How could I let someone I've only known through words affect me so? This wasn't like me at all!

My fists clench, but then I hear the door behind me open, and my hopes spring back to the front. I whirl around and I am delighted to see- a woman with shoulder length dark brown curls. Her hair is styled in a half pony. She is wearing a dark red dress with an alluring cut that trailed around her shoulders and down a little bit above her chest. There was a golden sash around her waist, flowing gracefully at the front of her dress. Her brown eyes twinkle at me in interest, and her rosy pink lips curl up in a smile. This woman was beautiful, no doubt- but I am unsure if this was indeed Ravenna.

I bow my head briefly to address her. "Milady."

She giggles courteously. "Sir." she paces slowly beside me. "I've been watching you from inside," she confesses, "What are you doing out here? The party is inside."

I grin. "Oh, you know. Just getting some fresh air."

She gives me a pointed look. "Quite a long time for 'fresh air', is it not?" she places her hands in front of her and intertwines them.

"Well perhaps I like to go to balls only to gaze at the beauty of nature." I gesture at the plants in the garden.

She laughs and turns her gaze away from me coyly, but then her head whirls back as she calms. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out," I tease, "After all, a man is nothing without his set of secrets."

Her lips curl to a smile once more. "Hm. We wouldn't want you to get emasculated now, would we?"

I match her smile, but I bite my lip to resist a full-on beam. My eyes glance at her up and down and I catch a glimpse of the diamond around her left ring finger. My brows furrow and I tilt my head to the side in curiosity. "If I hadn't known any better, milady, I'd say you were flirting with me."

She smirks. "And I'd say to that, you are quite a wishful thinker." she raises her hand to bring the diamond ring to my attention. "I am betrothed, sir. And I assure you, I am no harlot."  
I chuckle. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

She feigns shock. "Oh," she says, gives a courteous bow. She opens her mouth as if to begin to speak, but she purposefully stops herself, then smiles again. "That's for me to know and for you to find out," she says, "After all, a woman is _also _nothing without her set of secrets."

"And we wouldn't want that," I concede in amusement.

"Oh, I dare not."

We share another exchange of pleasant laughs, and we stare at each other eye to eye when our laughter ceases.

I catch her glancing at me up and down, then back to my eyes. "I have to admit, you are much better company than most of the audience inside." She says.

I beam at the remark. "Well I'm glad you think so highly of me," I say, "Does your betrothed know you are here?"

I see a tinge of sadness in her brown eyes, but she masks it quickly with a forced clearing of her throat. "As a matter of fact, this is why I came out," she said. The woman briefly glances toward the party, then back to me. "My husband-to-be has been showing me off to the party guests all night. And frankly, I am quite tired of being treated like a trophy." she made no effort to hide the bitterness in her tone.

I frown sympathetically. "I am truly sorry to hear that," I say, "So I suppose this is not for love?"

She shakes her head. "I have no choice in the matter," she replies. She huffs frustratingly, but keeps a forced grin, "But, as it is my duty, I will graciously comply with my father's wishes."

I nod. "I commend you for that, milady."

She glances back to the ball and her eyes flicker again, but this time, in controlled panic. "I must take my leave," she remarks, her tone urgent. "It was nice meeting you-"

"Robin," I respond, but I do not tell her where I come from. The woman gives me another keen look. "Robin," she says, "Thank you for your company."

I must have looked foolishly desperate to know who she was, for her follow up response was: "My secret still remains with me, but I appreciate the effort."

I laugh. I have never met a woman who bested me so easily. I watch as she takes her leave, and for a moment, I think she is Ravenna.

My thoughts linger back to the letter and I feel sadness loom over me. Had Ravenna forgotten? Or had she simply not cared as much as I? I force myself to wait another half hour, but when no one shows up, I sigh and walk back inside.

I find myself not enjoying the ball, as my thoughts linger on Ravenna's absence. I observe the women in attendance and wonder if one of them is Ravenna. After all, she had told me in her last letter she was here. Perhaps I only needed to find her.

**REGINA**

My anger simmers within me despite finally being able to lull Snow to sleep after several painful attempts to read her fairytales and repeated consoling. It amazes me that no one notices how much I absolutely hated everything about this arrangement. And this child. This child whom everyone deems so pure. This child who inadvertently murdered an innocent man!

I storm out of her room fiercely, and as I pass by the gardens, I see no one there.

I shake my head. Great. Reynard will probably never write another letter to me, and I will probably never get the chance to see his face again.

I turn my heel to head for the party, and as I turn the corner, I bump into a stranger and he grunts at our impact. I roll my eyes and storm away.

He huffs frustratingly. "Well, excuse _you_."

I grit my teeth at the remark. Who on earth would answer back to _me_? I spin around with a pointed glare. "How _dare _you!"

His blue eyes widen in recognition. "Your majesty!" he utters.

"That's _right_," I confirm. At first, the man is in shock, but after a beat of a moment, his expression eases, and his charm makes my heart flutter.

"Forgive me, your majesty," he says, gesturing with a bow. "I had not seen you there."

His English accent makes my stomach churn, but I keep my firm facade. "What are you doing in here? Guests aren't allowed in the palace!"

He frowns. "I meant no disrespect, your majesty. I apologize. I was merely looking around."

"For _what_?" I ask.

"For _who_," he corrects.

I roll my eyes. "I assure you, there is no one you would possibly want to meet here." I point toward the ball. "All the guests will be at the main hall."

He nods. "I understand. I was only wondering if she had lingered here."

I grumble. "Get out."

He smirks at me and bows again, this time in a mock-like way. Then he turns his heel and proceeds to leave.

I narrow my eyes. "Who are you looking for, anyway?"

He stops at my question, then turns his head to me. I realize his charm continues to woo me, and I curse myself for admiring a man who I'm supposed to reprimand.

"I highly doubt you really want to know," he says.

"Actually, I do," I persist. I step closer toward him until our bodies are mere inches apart. "What you've just done is called _trespassing_. And frankly, if the woman is here, _she _is trespassing, too."

He chuckles lowly, and I shiver at the sound. Over in the other room, I hear a new music playing. The man briefly turns his head toward the party, then glances back at me. "I've always wanted to dance with a Queen."

I raise my eyebrows. "Excuse me?"  
He offers his hand to me. "Please, your highness, would you amuse a lowly yeoman's dream?"

Goosebumps appear in my arms, but I shake my head and turn away. "Are you crazy? Leopold might see-"

"-but he won't," he says, stepping closer to me, "which is why I asked you in _here_."

I turn back to him, and his blue eyes stare back at me with the same longing expression I've always pictured Reynard giving me. My heart beats furiously, and my stomach churns, but I say nothing, and place my hand on his.

His eyes brighten, and he pulls me close. I gasp as our warm bodies touch, and I feel the vibration of his soft chuckle. Together, we dance.

We don't avert our gaze from each other's, and I keep up as he leads me through the waltz.

"So your highness," he begins, his voice lower and huskier, "who were you looking for at the gardens?"

I arch an eyebrow. "I wasn't looking for anyone, mind you. I was merely searching if I had left something of mine there." A lie.

His lips purse together as he nods slightly in understanding, but I detect this action was meant to jeer. The music goes to a crescendo, and he gestures me to turn. I follow. "I must say, you are quite a stunning partner," he says.

I smile. "Well, I _am _the queen after all." he pulls me back to him, in his muscular arms, and when the music prompts it, he dips me toward the floor. My hand slides around his neck to support myself, just in case this flirtatious imbecile dropped me. He laughs. I glare at him.

"_What_?"

He guides me back to him, slowly, alluringly, and we continue to waltz. "You continue to put up this defensive wall, but I know you are quite delighted to be with me right now."

"_Arrogance_," I point out, "How fitting." But I know for sure he is right. "Just who exactly am I dancing with?"

He pretends to ponder over the question as he looks up to search for some words. "Let's see… I'd say a dashing-" the corner of my lips curls- "fearless-" I arch my brow- "-audacious young man." I laugh at him, and he looks at me with genuine interest.

I glare. "You're ridiculous."

He merely shrugs it off. He proceeds to twirl me again, and I comply. "Are you always this bitter?" he asks.

I narrow my eyes. "What's wrong? Can't handle me?"

He chuckles at my response. "On the contrary, I think I can," he says, and he tugs at me harder than usual. I gasp as I collide against his chest. His face is a mere inches apart from mine. I open my mouth to protest, but no words dare to come out. I find myself enthralled, breathless in the midst of this charming stranger. And I am ashamed. How can this be? This man makes my stomach churn, just by looking at me.

"Who are you?" I ask again, but even my tone has softened to a mere whisper.

His eyes look at me intensely. "I think you know the answer to that, _milady_."

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach as his string of letters go through my head and I utter his name in shock: "Reynard…?"

He nods his head once. "Ravenna," he smiles, "You're late."

I stare at him momentarily as the truth sends my head spinning. My knees buckle and I think I would surely collapse, but he holds me tighter. "Queen Regina," he addresses my name and title as if he was testing how it rolled in his tongue, "I never would have guessed." He breaks away from me, and I am still left frozen, like an idiotic pre-teen.

My stupefied reaction amuses him, it seems. He bows to me once again. "My name is Robin. Robin of Locksley."

I heard his name before, briefly. Leopold spoke of him once; he was a known thief- nicknamed the Prince of Thieves, in fact. But my bare minimal knowledge of him suggests he has not posed a main threat to my husband as of yet. "You're a thief," I remark.

He chuckles as he looks up to me again. "I see you've heard of my work."  
I am speechless once again. This man, whom I had written back and forth with for many months, is finally standing in front of me; the man who saved me, consoled me, and kept me smiling despite my lonely life.

I grab his shirt and kiss him, pushing away all logic. He grunts against my lips, and I am pleased that I finally caught this cocky man off guard. I savor him, taste him for as long as I could, until sanity finally catches up to me. I push him away. We stare at each other with a look of unquenched yearning as we both tried to catch our breaths.

"I'm sorry," I say softly, "I… I shouldn't have done that."

He grabs me and kisses me again, with so much desperation that shakes my very core. I moan as I finally let loose, and I feel our tension intensifying. Reynard- Robin- cups my face with his hands, and I open my mouth to him willingly. He sighs. So do I. My heart threatens to burst out, my stomach convoluting. I throw the last ounce of logic and rationale out the window, for indecency never tasted so good. He drives me up a wall, far from the main banquet and into the shadowy corner, where no one could see. I hold on to him as he breaks away from my lips and proceeds to kiss my cheek, my chin, trailing down to my neck. I sigh again, tilting my head up eagerly. His hot breaths between kisses prickle my skin and I shiver.

"So very responsive," Robin murmurs, and he dives in to devour my neck. I tug on him for encouragement, and he moans.

"There's one thing you need to know about me," I say, "Something I haven't told Reynard."

"What's that?"

I grin mischievously and lift up my hand, and together we disappear in a puff of purple smoke.

A second later we appear on my bed chamber. I marvel at the floored look I garnered from him, and he looks at me dumbfounded as he says, "_Magic?_"

I giggle, nodding vigorously. He stares at me with a naughty expression. Then he pushes me to my bed and traps me beneath him. "I'm going to enjoy knowing _Regina_." He proceeds to plant kisses all over my body.

My eyes fall shut as the sensations his touches give me shoot layer after layer of wanting in between my legs. "You know…" I murmur, "You're going to get me in big trouble… when the King catches you…"

"No one catches me," Robin replies. There it was again, that cheeky arrogance.

I giggle. "This is… so wrong-"

"-but it feels so right," Robin unhooks my clothes slowly. I help him undress me, and he helps me remove his clothes as well. He kisses my lips again. The spark between us sends electrifying jolts across my body. I grab his hard shaft and he utters a low growl as I caress him. "This kingdom has _such_ a naughty Queen."  
I grin. "You'll get us both beheaded."

"Only if we're caught," Robin pointed out, "And believe me, I won't let that happen."

We kiss each other desperately. I continue to move my hand up and down his shaft. I feel his hands move under my belly and he begins to stroke me. I cry out his name, his _real _one, Robin.

He growls. "_God_, Regina, you are soaking wet."

I stare at him intensely with the most excruciating desire eating me up inside. "Shut up and kiss me."

He obliges as he works on my wet mound languidly. I mewl as the feelings ignite my senses. He trails down his other hand and places a finger inside me and I cry out. I feel his lips smile as he pushes his finger in me back and forth. "Robin…"

He stops briefly to place a second digit inside me, and I gasp. My short breaths become periodic wails as my pleasure escalates. Gradually, his pace quickens in tandem with my body's jerky behavior, all the while kissing my lips with unwavering passion. The titillation he gives me makes me wonder how experienced of a lover he really was, but I shove away the unwanted thought in my head. Tonight, it did not matter. Tonight, he was mine. And I, _his_.

He continues to work me until I am almost breathless, bucking at his touch and I look at him to beg for release. "Robin," I cry, my voice infused with hot desire, "Take me."

He strokes me faster, and I shout. He chuckles at my desperation. "I have the Queen at my mercy," he remarks, "I could get used to this."

I grit my teeth as I glare at him. "Robin, I beg of you, take me!"

"Not yet," Robin growls, continuing his frantic pace. I shiver and cry, bucking violently at his touch. "Robin!"

I am teetering on the edge, and just as I am about to reach my peak, he removes all sensation from me, and I whine in protest. "What are you doing?" I demand. He parts my folds and pushes himself in, and we both groan as he fills me. Then without missing another second, he begins to pound me, and I scream as my pleasure ignites once again. I scream his name and I finally hear him utter mine. He thrusts at me ruthlessly until I am once again approaching my peak. "Robin, don't stop!" I cry out, "Please, don't stop!"

He obliges this time, shoving his slick shaft at me again and again until I finally reach my climax. I shudder beneath him, tears gushing out of my eyes, and shortly after, I feel him coming with me, holding on to me as he accepts every powerful tremor.

Euphoria shoots through me, and I sigh with relief. I feel his taut muscles relax, but instead of dropping on me or removing himself to sleep like Leopold always did, Robin kisses my lips- softly, without lust. He continues these loving kisses as he dries my tears and whispers sweet nothings in my ear. _You're so beautiful, Regina._

_You're an amazing woman._

_Ever wonderful._

Robin genuinely _cared _for me. I nearly melt as I realize: he was the only person since Daniel who had ever made me feel this special.

Robin eases himself out of me gingerly. He lays by my side and I move to face him.

"Well then," I respond, "It's nice to finally meet you, _Reynard_."

Robin gives me a peck on the lips and he answers in whisper: "It's nice to meet you too, _Ravenna_."

He stays here with me, however long I stayed awake. And as much as I tried to keep myself up, my fatigue finally won out.

…

When I open my eyes the next day, he is gone. Beside me, there is a letter:

_Last night was incredible, milady. But there is something more I wish to discuss._

I imagine his face, his voice, and I smile. As I read the letter, I finally have a face to the man.

_I will visit you again tonight, as I imagine a mere letter will not suffice between us any longer._

My eyes linger at the name at the bottom of the page, because for the first time, it finally reads:

_Sincerely,_

_Robin._

* * *

**Questions to Ponder:**

1. Snow's sickness: Regina's responsibility or someone else's?

2. The betrothed woman in the garden: What was THAT about? (lol)

3. Thoughts on the dance scene?

4. Thoughts on Outlaw Queen's banter?

5. Thoughts on the rated M scene? ;)

Hit the review section below, let me know!


	8. Chapter 8

**ROBIN**

When I return to camp, my Merry Men overwhelm me with questions about Regina. It is Little John who begins.

"So, how'd it go?" he asks.

I purse my lips and nod my head approvingly. "It went well."

Arthur laughs heartily. He and the others approach me. "_Well_?" he repeats, "What kind of bloody answer is that? Did you meet her or not?"  
I grin. "Yes… I did."

The Merry Men exchange bewildered expressions. "And?" Arthur urges.

"And…" I flinch, for the first time feeling sheepish with what I've done. "I slept with her."  
There was a brief moment of silence. The Merry Men's eyes were all on me, each one of them looking gravely astonished.

"No way." Little John uttered.

"You bloody fox!" Friar Tuck called, bursting in a guffaw, and the others joined in.

"You're an idiot, Hood!" yelled Arthur, but he was chuckling with the men.

Little John yanks me in his bear arms and jumbles my hair with his fist. "I wouldn't say that, a-Bland!" Little John said, "Our leader is simply a lusty bastard."

"But an idiot to boot," Alan-a-dale nudges John. I scramble myself away from my lieutenant's grasp.

"It's nothing like that," I tell them. They only answer me with mischievous grins. I sigh.

"Hold on a second," Arthur says, "What of our plans to leave? Will she be coming with us?"

At this, the Merry Men's laughter ceased. Eyes are all on me again.

"When I visit her next, I'll tell her our plans of leaving this kingdom." I tell them.

John furrows his eyebrows. "And you shall invite her?" he asks.

I think about this for a moment. Despite what she's said to me in her letters, I found it difficult to ask her to live a vagabond life. She lives a sheltered life. How could I take her away from that? But I knew she was miserable as well, so much so that she would rather give up her own life than to keep living in her hell. I sigh. "I shall," I admit, "And she will come with us if she wishes."

Arthur's mouth falls open. "You cannot be serious," he utters, "Does this woman even have what it takes to be one of us? Can we even trust her?"

"_I _trust her," I emphasize.

"So we're supposed to trust your clouded lovestruck judgment?" Arthur inquires, his voice rising, "Who is this woman, anyway? Why do you not tell us?"

I speak nothing more of her. My Merry Men will not have a say in the matter if Regina wants to come. If I tell them she is this Kingdom's queen, they will most certainly not approve, so I do not reveal this information to them, not _yet_. They do not know her like I do. They do not know her suffering, her situation. Once they understand, _then_ they will know. But for now, I hold off.

I approach Arthur with purpose. "Do not question me, Arthur. There are good reasons for my actions," I say. I turn to the others. "This goes for all of you. Good night." I proceed in my tent, ignoring everyone else as they talk amongst themselves.

This troubles me even after we all take our rest for the night. I think about her, unable to have slumber take me from the worry of what Regina might say. I am unsure if I am more scared of her saying yes or saying no.

**REGINA**

I wait for him impatiently all day, much like how I did the day before. Today Snow feels a little bit better. I spoon feed her hot soup made by the palace chef. She smiles at me endearingly.

"Thank you, Regina," she says, "I'm so glad you're here."

I smile for her. I imagine this girl choking from her meal, and my grin broadens. I think of her reaching out for me, and I use magic to muffle her cries so that she continues without anyone hearing her die. I realize how awful this was and force myself back to reality. How could I have thought of that? I shudder. Living in this palace only keeps my resentment of Snow building. I think of my mother, of what has become of her. This child was slowly pushing me to become someone I never wanted to be! How could I allow myself to think that? What would my father say? What would _Robin_ say?

"Regina, are you okay?" Snow's voice intrudes my thoughts.

"I'm fine," I tell her, and I smile for her again.

Snow leans forward and touches my arm. "There is something troubling you," she observes, "Please tell me."

Could this situation be any more ironic? "There's been a lot in my mind lately," I tell her.

Snow observes me for a while, and then asks, "Are you happy?"

My eyes widen in surprise. "Of course I am, dear," I say, "Why would you say that?"

Snow frowns. "I never see you as happy as you were with Daniel," she explains, "But recently…"

My heart beats faster. Has she seen Robin? "What?" I press. My voice must have become more forceful, for Snow jumps in surprise. "N-nothing," she says, "I just noticed today you looked much happier than the other times I've seen you…"

My face lights up, but I force myself to downplay it. Snow must not know about Robin. If she causes him to die, I don't care if she is little miss innocent. I will _kill_ her _now_… There it is again, those thoughts of killing a child. I gasp in a breath. I cannot allow myself to live like this!

Snow watches me as I move away from her. "Where are you going?"

"You need your rest, Snow. I'll clean this up for you."

She does not see the malice in me, so she smiles and nods her head. Then she lays in her bed to sleep.

My hatred bothers me, more than it used to. Was it because of Robin? And all this magic training, what good is it, really? I find myself at a loss. Everything I was trying to accomplish suddenly did not matter anymore. If Robin was not going to be in my future, then I don't want that future!

What a bold remark, coming from me. Do I really mean that, or is my judgment cloudy from last night's meeting? I remember everything, how he made me feel. And… I gave myself to him! My heart beats faster thinking about it, and I giggle like an innocent maiden. How well do I even know him, to allow him to take all of me? I shake my head. My yearning for him was unbelievable, but what makes it stranger is that I did not mind it, nor did I want it to stop. With Robin, I will give everything up.

Night falls, finally. I look out my balcony, hoping to see him again. Will he be able to climb at this height? For a moment, I worry.

"_Milady._" I turn around in surprise. He is standing there, beside my door. On his right hand was his bow. A set of arrows- new arrows, I realize, since none of them lack a fletching- is bundled in his quiver he hung behind him. This is the first time I really see him for who he was, with his green, archery attire.

"Robin," I call out in shock, "How did you-"

"-I'm a thief," he says with a wink, "What did you expect?"

I chuckle. Then I run toward him and throw myself in his arms. We kiss. I cherish him, this wonderful man. I feel him wrap his arms around my waist and I hug him tighter. We break off the kiss, and I stare at him in longing. "I didn't even hear you come in."

"I told you once before I don't get caught," he says as-a-matter-of-factly, "Your guards lack sleep. Just letting you know."

I giggle again. When he is with me, all my troubles seem to disappear. "So," I begin, "What is it that you wanted to tell me?"

At this, his face contorts with worry. "My Merry Men and I will be taking our leave soon."

"Oh," I reply, "When will I see you again?"

He stares at me intensely, and I immediately understand what he is about to say. "I'm sorry, Regina, but we won't have any plans of returning."

My heart trembles at the news, but I hold his gaze. He continues, "King Leopold is a benevolent ruler. There were only a handful of villages we were able to help. And now… we must move on."

I sigh. "Then take me with you."

Robin stares at me harshly. "Regina, you need to think harder about this-"

"-There's nothing to think about!" I exclaim, "Robin, you _know_ how I feel about this place. Without you, I will fall. I _need_ you."

He smiles, but only a half-smile. He brings up his hand and caresses my face. "I understand this life pains you," he begins, "But you also heard of my adventures. They can be dangerous, Regina. And luxuries are near-inexistent in my world. I need you to think about that for a moment. Think about the good things in your life right now, and decide accordingly."

I chuckle softly. I step forward to close the gap between us and give him a quick peck on his lips. "The only good thing in my life right now is _you_," I confess, my tone strong. "I know what I'm giving up, Robin. And I know what I'm going into. And I choose to be with _you_."

I see the happiness in his expression as he hears my final decision, and he pulls me in for a kiss. I let him take me, savoring him, moaning as he kisses me deeper. We continue our caress for a long moment, until he finally pulls away, breathless. He smiles. He takes out a note from his pocket and places it on the palm of my hand and closes it into a fist. "Meet me at this location, first thing on the 'morrow. My Merry Men and I shall wait for you there." he kisses my forehead. My heart melts for him. I nod.

He continues, "Take everything you need here, my darling. Then tomorrow, we shall start a life together."

I chuckle. "Stealing the Queen from the 'benevolent' King?" I tilt my head to the side, "Didn't take you for _that _kind of thief."

He laughs at my teasing. "I'll make an exception, just this once."

I hear footsteps, and I panic. I push him toward my closet. "Someone's coming," I say, "Hide!"

He opens my wardrobe and walks in, and I close it just in time before my door swings open.

"Regina?"

I look over and see King Leopold peeking from my door. I flash him a smile. "Good evening, your highness," I reply.

He looks around my room. "I heard you laughing, do you have a guest?"

I shake my head. "No, of course not. You must have heard the night shift guards." His expression eases and he walks in to meet me. "How is Snow?"

My heart beats faster. There is only one reason why my husband would visit me at this time of night. I step away from him. "She is fine," I reply, "Her stomach pains have subsided greatly."

He nods. "Very good." He steps closer to me and when he touches my arm I squirm away.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

I shake my head. "Nothing," I say, "I just, do not feel like it tonight."

He frowns. I back up even more and I fall on my bed. He follows me. "Are you sure?"

I gulp. "Yes, please. I just want to rest."

Leopold kisses my lips, but I push him away. "_Please. _I just want to rest," I say again. Leopold observes me critically, until finally, he sighs. "I'm sorry." He moves away, "It has been a while since we've spent a night."

I blush at his remark, knowing Robin can see and hear all of this. Oh, what could he be _thinking_?

"I realize that," I say, "But… I am tired. From taking care of Snow." What a perfect alibi, Regina! I tell myself, and I try my best to keep a concerned face. Leopold makes his way out of my room. "I understand," he says. Then he looks back at me and nods. "Good night, Regina."

I nod back. "Good night."

When he closes the door, I rush to my wardrobe and let Robin out.

"Is that how he asks for you?" is the first thing he asks me. I blush again. I am hopelessly embarrassed, that my voice cannot even speak for me, so I nod.

Robin raises his eyebrows, then chuckles. "Wow. I… think I might be a little scarred from that experience. For a while there I thought… you know."

I grimace. "Robin!" I utter indignantly. I push his shoulder. "No! I would _never!_"

He laughs at my discomfort. "You are quite adorable when you blush, Regina."

I glare at him. He kisses me again, and the awkwardness I feel dissipates. I kiss him back. He breaks away from me and chuckles. "Tired from taking care of your step-daughter, huh?" he teases, "That doesn't seem to be the case with _me_."

I grin. "Oh, shut up." We laugh together. He embraces me and I lead him to my bed. I fall on top of him and we share yet another kiss. He caresses my skin and I moan in his mouth. My hands run through his hair as I continue to cherish him. I feel him growing hard for me.

I pull away from him momentarily to catch my breath but I kiss him again. He groans.

My lust ignites. He pulls me closer to him. He runs his fingers by the skin on my shoulders, down to my arms, to my waist. Then he removes my clothing, slowly. He begins to kiss my neck, trailing downward. I whimper loudly.

Such sensuality, such emotion. The more he is with me, the more I stop caring about magic, about my hatred, about Snow. With Robin, I can have that new life I've always sought for, that freedom I've always dreamed of.

There is an urgent knock on my door. "Your highness!"

My heart quickens. I push Robin away and I scramble to fix myself. "Yes?" I call out.

"Are you alright?" the guards yell from the other side.

I turn to Robin. "You need to leave," I whisper, but I could not help but feel slightly amused. From the look on his face, he feels exactly the same way.

"'Till tomorrow, milady," he says with a chuckle. He grabs the arrow with a rope tightly knotted at the end and shoots it out my balcony.

I hear the the guards barge in. I instinctively rush in front of them to block their view. "How dare you!" I bellow, trying my best to display a furious look despite the circumstance.

The guards stiffen at the sight of me and bow immediately. "F-forgive us, your highness, we thought-"

"-you thought _what?_" I pry. They dare not look at me in the eyes.

"We thought you were attacked," one of them says.

"We heard a man's voice-"

"-And your cry!"

I blush at this. "I am perfectly fine," I grunt with a harsh huff, "Please. Leave me!"

"Yes, your highness." they say, and they leave my room quickly. When my door closes, I turn to the direction of the balcony. Robin is no longer there. I sigh with relief.

Tomorrow, Robin and I will finally be together, and no one can stop us. On the side of my bedside, Psyche is looking at me curiously from her cage. I grin. "You'll come with me too, don't worry."

I turn to my closet and open it. Despite the overflowing of dresses, there wasn't much to choose from. I knew I had to leave behind the queenly attire. Life with Robin would mean a life of adventure, and walking around forests and villages with these types of dresses was certainly not practical. I did not mind. In fact, I very much preferred the outdoorsy look. I move the hangers to reveal the few clothes I truly owned, the ones I brought with me before my move to Leopold's palace. My horse riding outfit was my personal favorite, but there were a few more amidst all these outlandish royalwares. These original clothes of mine were all that mattered, and therefore all I would bring. I magically summon a bag to my side and begin to pack. Then I take my undergarments and some of my favorite jewelry, my royal passport (for it will certainly come in handy) and all other important documents. When I finish, I carry my bag to the side of my bed and lay down. I could barely contain my excitement.

Tomorrow, my new life with Robin awaits.

* * *

**Questions to Ponder:**

1. What are your thoughts with Robin and Regina's actions?

2. Favorite scene and why?

3. In your opinion, will Robin and Regina's plan to run away together run smoothly? Why or Why not?

4. Predictions, comments, suggestions?

Hit the review section below, let me know!


End file.
